Gundam 00 Drabbles
by empty gun
Summary: A collection of my 00 drabbles - mostly Allelujah-centric.
1. Wolf Like Me

-1It hurts to breathe in. Allelujah's voice is raspy, his chest constricted. He knows the pain is from screaming things he doesn't remember. He remembers begging keenly, but picking up the gun. He nearly drops it, so shaky and sweating are his hands. He remembers trying to turn it on himself at one point, the gun barrell and a voice he hears in his nightmares comes from his mouth, sputtering words angrily. _Don't, fool, coward. _

Allelujah closes his eyes and when he opens them, he's a spectator his own life again, his hands no longer shaky. "Leave this to me," is the last thing Hallelujah says to him and he knows full well what he -himself- intends to do. He habitually seperates himself from this dark half, but it's his own small hands that pull the trigger. Allelujah is surprised at the speed at which he surrenders his control, but these times are drastic.

Blood flies from wounds and the sound of the shots are deafening. Someone is screaming, and it takes Allelujah a few seconds to realize it's his voice alone above the sounds of desperation culminating before him. He's screaming murder from his throat, inside his mind, a chorus of rage and horror that, in one moment, he shares with Hallelujah; their voices in the same emotional range.

When he comes to, covered in blood and triumphantly alone, he tries to speak, but it comes out as a painful, raw whisper. He gave over again and for what, his own survival? _Is it really that crucial?  
_  
"Oh yes," says his other, in a voice as hushed as his own and Allelujah closes his eyes. He's not really there, but he cannot stand to see Hallelujah covered in blood. He's not real, he reminds himself, tears pooling behind his closed eyelids.

"The hell I'm not!" roars Hallelujah with a laugh. His voice is cracking, but continues the laughter as Allelujah sobs.

"The hell I'm not," he repeats, and Allelujah realizes the words are coming from his own mouth, buried in his arms. It's him alone, as it always was.


	2. Lifetimes

Allelujah had a whole lifetime of living to live. He had considered it many times, that unordinary way his life had turned out. Passing people on the streets, they knew such different paths to that one moment when their shoulders brushed with his. Normality was only a word. What was normal? Movies and television and ... He never watched movies, never watched television but discovering the pleasures of small things with Marie, he realizes, watching black and white figures move on a screen, what was he missing?

He misses nothing as long as she's here, watching a couple romance each other in a way that neither of them are a stranger to, Marie's fingers finding his in the dark. The kiss on screen may be more dramatic but if people only felt half the passion he felt for her, they wouldn't have to seek things from anything but the small things in their own lives.


	3. Oh, What A Lonely Night!

Setsuna had never heard in his much younger days any stress on the individual and its role in society. In the KPSA, they all fought for the glory of God, and were propped under an umbrella that shielded doubt from their minds, an umbrella constructed of fear, guilt. They weren't one, they were one of many in a body that had no free will. What Setsuna thought was thought for him. In Celestial Being, one doesn't act without the others, they are a team moving in unison, with goals as well as machines. Though, Setsuna can walk away at any time. The difference is free will, the difference is doubt is not a sin and the difference is that these are his comrades, not a part of himself. He is Setsuna, whole and different, even though he moves in the same direction, he is himself. One.

Tieria Erde once remarks at a division between their ideas, "Commitment to the mission is above all." He doesn't show any sign of amusement on his face in those days, just closed lips and crossed arms. He opens his mouth again and adds, "There is no 'I' in team." Lockon Stratos puts his arm around Setsuna and jabs at a gloved finger in the air and laughs. "But there is a 'me'!" He says this annoy Tieria good-naturedly, but Setsuna realizes the meaning behind what any of them take for granted: at least there can be disagreement between them.

Setsuna never dreamed about moving amongst the stars or feeling the power in his hands to shape the world. What child, especially a dirty-faced boy with a gun in his hand and his mind made up for him would? But he recalls vividly so many times seeing the Gundam, the closest thing to God he's ever witnessed, hovering in air that afternoon. It becomes like a symbol in his mind of a turn-around, at least internally. This is what can be the future. This is what you can become. No one ever says he can become anything more than what he is, but Setsuna knows as long as he imagines the symbol of change and shape, his Gundam, he is at least free.


	4. Colors

In Celestial Being, every meister is assigned a color, generally regarding the Gundam they pilot. Allelujah's color has always been orange. He never really considered things like favorite colors too often. If he had to choose, it wouldn't be orange. But then again, if he had to choose many things they would not end up the way they had. This was life. The things he did consider were varied and regarded what he thought had to do with what was necessary, most of the time. He knew what foods he liked, he knew the past was a painful concept, he knew what type of music hurt his head.

When he first received his assignment to Kyrios, he fingered his suit, noting the color and had no concept at that moment that it would become almost like a signature of his. Orange, and the color of blood and shades of grey. These were the colors that made up his palette. If he could choose, he'd see things in black and white and enjoy his ignorance. To have awareness was pain, to have pain meant, to people like himself, that you had to change something, fill the void somehow.

After his departure from Celestial Being, he doesn't wear orange again.


	5. Learned

Looking into Marie's eyes is like looking across a vast plain of time. A gulf full of places he's been.

Allelujah sees those eyes, wide awake and unfocused, glassy buttons for all their usefulness, staring ahead as her mind speaks to him. His small fingers trace her outline on the case holding her and under his touch all he feels is hard and cold, but only inches separate her from him. Only inches and soon, years.

He can see those eyes as an enemy penetrating his mind, but the eagle-fierce anger and determination has been replaced by a softer look, the look of her voice so long ago.

The first time he touches her it's like falling into a place he's only seen in thoughts. He never dreamed he'd see her again, much less whole, beautiful, sitting in front of him and she touches him back, sees him, hears him. Worth the wait, guilt, for the only thing separating them is air.

Days and days later when they make love for the first time, the only thing separating them is hesitation and that is soon melted and tarnished. She's no longer the untouchable child, a symbol of purity, his savior as much as he's hers. The innocence isn't shattered, but the happiness made whole as she sweats and pants underneath his careful touch.

He traces lines on her body later with a finger, all glass, hesitation, inches, years, doubt pushed aside and for the first time he feels things, for all their winding and wrong turns, ended up going down the right path. People make choices for unfathomable reasons that only become clear later, if at all.

Her eyes close as she falls asleep next to him. No regrets for what he fought to obtain and he wonders if it'll last any amount of significant time; not out of cynicism or even being pragmatic but out of learned habit. Their time is fleeting and it clocks off lucky minutes. Nothing lasts forever; the paths must end somewhere.


End file.
